The Last of the Couslands
by Jedi Amoira
Summary: Wynne's curiosity leads her to ask an insensitive question. Alistair finally discovers the circumstances behind the arrival the Grey Warden recruit he never expected. Alistair and Elan bond over their grief for their families. 2-chapter fic. COMPLETE
1. Only Elan Now

Disclaimer-- As much as I wish otherwise, I do not own DAO. I do not own any of the characters there-in, including the female Cousland origin character, though I would like to think my interpretation of her is my own. I do not own the environment, events, dialogue, etc. I expect and will receive nothing from this story but the joy of paying homage to excellence. (Imitation, after all, is sincere flattery.) Nonetheless, I do work hard on my little stories, and I love them. Please don't repost or reprint them without my knowledge. Further, like all fanfic writers, I am fueled by reviews. If you like and want more, please encourage me by telling me so. If you see something you dislike or think needs to be fixed, I will be happy to learn...but please be gentle!

Note-- This 2-chapter fic is a fragment of what or may not eventually become a longer, more comprehensive fic. If I waited until that fic was in a condition to post, I would never post at all, and I wanted to post.

It may help to know that in Elan's story arc, Alistair had no idea about what happened prior to Elan's arrival in Ostagar, just his own (good but incorrect) theory.

In Elan's personal story arc, this story occurs after the first visit to the Circle Tower. Currently, I envision it as taking place during the side-trip from Redcliffe back to the Tower for aid. (Sorry for the minor spoiler about potential upcoming fic events there), but that may change as I get more of the overall arc written.

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"So, how did you become a Grey Warden, if you don't mind my asking?" Wynne had the words out before Alistair could stop her.

The words made him wince.

If Elan's induction into the Wardens had caused some family strife at the time, how could she help but worry the breach was deeper and wider now than it had been? Her family might think her dead, dead without a chance to make amends—as she so nearly was—Alistair suppressed a shudder and leaned closer to the fire...and that might almost be a relief compared to the possibility that her family might believe Loghain's lies, that they might think her a traitor.

He could have quietly discouraged the others from asking Elan questions that might increase her regret and worry, but he'd been too wrapped up in himself and his grief, to spare her any thought or concern.

Just as she had a lifetime ago in the Wilds, Elan sat still and silent.

Wynne looked at Alistair with a question in her eyes. Alistair shrugged. He wished he had the faintest idea what to do or say next, but he didn't.

"Arl Rendon Howe." Elan said, as if this answer were somehow complete. Or an answer at all.

Lelianna leaned in closer, sensing a tale. Morrigan raised her head like a predator hearing some faint sound in the brush. Sten's hand tightened on the hilt of the greatsword he was cleaning. Woofus whined and bumped up again Elan's knee.

Elan sighed heavily, every doubt and sorrow Alistair had felt since Ostagar in the sound, and rested her hand on her hound's head as if to anchor herself to the present. "Betrayed my father," she finished quietly, as if there had been no pause between the beginning of the sentence and the end, the words cool and smooth and burning as darkspawn blood on the skin.

"You..." Wynne breathed, her face frozen between horror and reverence. "You are the last of the Couslands?"

_The __**last**__ of the Couslands?_ The words reverberated through Alistair's skull, making his head spin. He barely understood what the women were saying. What had happened to the Couslands? The way Wynne reacted, it seemed it was common knowledge...but _what_ was common knowledge was beyond him.

"I...I had no idea," Wynne said in that same strange tone. "My lady."

"Don't!" the word sounded like a whip-crack, surprising everyone. From the look on her face, it surprised Elan most of all. "Just...don't," she repeated more softly.

She hadn't moved, but Alistair could picture her drawing her knees up and hugging them to her chest, rocking back and forth like a frightened child.

"I'm just Elan now," she said, sounding as lost and alone as Alistair had felt sitting in Flemeth's hut, wondering whether or not she would ever reopen her eyes. "Only Elan."

"I suppose that's true," Wynne mused. "Grey Wardens can't hold titles can they?"

As nice as she seemed, Alistair wished the mage was sitting close enough for him to kick.

"And I am a Grey Warden," Elan concluded, her misty eyes rising to meet Alistair's own. That look...it was a confirmation and a promise. It was a vow. She said nothing more, and Wynne didn't push, merely offering some platitude about how sometimes it was comforting to think things worked out for the best.

Leliana nodded sagely, but Sten stared at her as if she'd sprouted a second head. Morrigan huffed in disgust. For once, Alistair found he and the witch-thief were in complete agreement.

Elan stood and walked away.

Alistair bit down on his urge to protest. It was dangerous for anyone to wander out of sight alone...but she wasn't alone, really. Her mabari was loping after her...and that hound had guarded her through the fall of Ostagar...and more than Alistair knew.

Lelianna was asking Wynne, in a low tone, who the Couslands were, and what being the last of them had to do with being a Grey Warden.

"Who the Couslands are is easy enough," Wynne said . "There are—were until less than two months ago, that is—two teyrns in all of Ferelden. They commanded the allegiance of the country's arls and banns between them and answered only to the king. One of those teyrns was Loghain—the Hero of River Dane, who earned his title in the war against Orlais. He was the commander of King Cailan's army...just as he had been the commander of King Maric's...and...he committed a terrible deed. He told the king he would hold back his troops to flank the enemy in battle at Ostagar...but when the signal came—"

"He quit the field and left the king and all with him—including the Grey Wardens needed to end the Blight—there to die," Alistair spat. "Then he claimed the throne as regent, and decried the Wardens he'd betrayed as traitors to the throne."

Wynne nodded. "The other teyrn...the teyrn of Highever...Bryce Cousland...inherited a title his family had held since before the time of Calenhad, the first king of Fereldan. He, too, fought bravely to free Fereldan, as did his wife alongside him. As did Arl Howe, arl of Amaranthine, Teyrn Cousland's vassal...and, from all accounts, his friend."

"Erm...okay." Lelianna said. "But...what happened?"

"Teyrn Cousland was to come to Ostagar to support the king, and Arl Howe with him," Wynne said. "But...they were...delayed."

"The teyrn's son Fergus arrived with Highever's men, didn't he?" Alistair asked suddenly. His men...and Ser Jory who had accompanied Duncan to Highever from Redcliffe, whom Duncan had sent on ahead with his message about Ser Gilmore and the teryn's daughter.

The teyrn's daughter who had no interest in leaving home to become a Grey Warden, the knight who longed for nothing more. The knight who hadn't come and the daughter who had.

Whatever had happened to bring Elan to the Grey Wardens, it hadn't been the simple family spat Alistair had assumed...but if the teyrn's son had said aught of betrayal, Alistair had never heard it.

"He did. " Wynne explained. "At the time, no one knew why the teyrn was delayed...from what the survivors at Ostagar said, Arl Howe's men were delayed and the teyrn had simply waited to ride with his friend the next day. But he never arrived. Elan and Duncan did. Some of the survivors claimed Elan told the king her father would not be coming. The king, naturally enough, asked why. And Duncan explained that the two of them—Elan and Duncan—had narrowly escaped the fall of Highever—at the hands of Howe, no less—with their lives."

Lelianna's eyes were huge. "Is it true, do you think?"

"You saw how she reacted...and she did not deny it," Wynne said sadly. "What do you think?"

"It is true," Lelianna whispered.

There was a long pause as the group stared at one another around the fire.

"But...I still don't understand how that made Elan a Grey Warden," Lelianna objected at last.

"I don't really know myself," Wynne said. "Perhaps she felt she had nothing left to lose, nowhere else to go, and no other reason to live."

"Then she joined the Grey Wardens seeking safe harbor," Lelianna said softly. "As I joined the Chantry. Yes...that makes sense."

"Maybe Duncan saved her," Alistair mused, "he was good at that. He saved me." He remembered, though, the way Elan had tilted her head when he'd told her that, the way she'd suggested Duncan may have had motives besides kindness. He'd been angry at the time, wondering if she thought he wasn't worth the kindness for himself...but maybe she hadn't been talking about him...maybe she'd been talking about herself.


	2. Unwanted

Elan stripped off her armor, wishing she could remove her anger and grief as easily.

Naked, she waded out into the lake.

It hadn't long since Irving had allowed them all the amenties of the Tower—Elan had never been so glad to see a tub and boiler in her entire life—but between her memories and the taint, not to mention the near-constant state of battle in which their little band seemed destined to subsist, she doubted she would ever feel clean again...except for times like now when the chill of the water crackled over her skin and through her veins, numbing her grief so that she felt free and pure.

She floated and flailed about until her temperature equalized and the water felt almost warm. She emerged and pulled small clothes, tunic and leggings on over damp, clammy skin, wishing she'd had the foresight to bring a blanket—unfortunate one never thought of these things when fleeing personal demons.

She'd be lucky if she didn't die of pneumonia, in spite of Wynne's considerable healing skills.

She didn't care in the slightest.

Even if it did wreak havoc on her ability to fulfill her duty as a Grey Warden.

Part of her almost wished it would. She knew that part would eventually be wrestled back into submission by the much larger part who wanted to do her duty, not for her own sake, but because it was all she could for her father, her mother...and Duncan. Then she would care...

Woofus stretched out beside her, cuddling his warm furry body against her. She buried her face in his furry neck and closed her eyes.

That was where Alistair found her a few minutes later. He didn't know whether he was disappointed she was asleep, or relieved he wouldn't have to struggle with what to say. He tucked one of the blankets he'd brought around girl and hound.

Elan turned over and opened her eyes. "This is getting to be a habit," she remarked at the sight of Alistair leaning over her.

He chuckled softly. "I suppose it is. I don't mind if you don't?"

She stretched and shook her head. "Not at all...it's actually rather nice to have something to rely on." _Someone._

Alistair smiled. No one had ever so much as suggested he might be reliable before. He kind of liked the idea.

"Sometimes I feel like those flasks I make. The ones that explode. Solid and stable...but brittle, and very volatile. Does that make sense?"

"All too much." He'd felt like that since Ostagar. Most of the time, really. It was why he hadn't trusted himself to speak until they reached Lothering. He suspected Elan knew as much—had known, even then.

"Orianna told me about them. My sister-in-law. She was...from Antiva. I don't think she knew how to make them, but...she described them...She always said women in Antiva wouldn't fight the way I did. Fergus teased her about that—he claimed Antivan women were renowned for being dangerous. She agreed—_with poison and kindness only, my husband_, she said. She taught me...well, I didn't realize how much she had taught me until I started relying on it to save my life—to save our lives. But...it...didn't...save hers..." Elan's voice was so thick Alistair feared she might choke.

Hesitantly, he slid his arms about her and pulled her upright, propping her against his shoulder to help her breathe. "Or her son's. Oren. He was seven. My last conversation with him was just before Fergus left...Oren told me Orianna had said I'd be looking after them while his father was gone...and...that night..."

Woofus whined, pressing against her from the other side, crushing Alistair's arm beneath his weight.

"You said Duncan sent word about me? When we first met?" Elan said after a bit. "That had to be before...before...the chaos. So...he must have told you I'd refused to be tested? My father...didn't want me to join the Wardens...but it was more than that. I was supposed to remain—not that I wanted to leave—to look after Highever in his absence. Actually, all I wanted was for my life to stay exactly as it was—Exactly. I didn't even want Father and Fergus riding into danger.... Duncan...I think he understood. He seemed...content...to test Ser Gilmore. I never understood why I ever occurred to him as a candidate anyway..."

Alistair really wasn't sure he wanted the answer to this question, but something told him he ought to ask. "Elan...why did you join the Wardens?"

She laughed bitterly. "Aside from the fact it was no longer an option to remain at Highever?"

"Going to Ostagar and appealing to the king for justice hardly required you to join the Wardens, did it?" She stiffened slightly in his arms, but she didn't pull away.

"Gilmore...his father was the Master at Arms before him, you know. He was only a few years older than Fergus. They were inseperable as kids. And...I desperately wanted to go everywhere they went and do everything they did, you know? He was...like another brother to me. If I could best him in a bout...it's because he took the time and trouble to teach me how to do it." Elan sighed. "I tried to convince him to flee with us...but he said the only way we'd escape at all was if he defended the gates. I didn't want to leave him there...but I did. Because I'd never won an argument with the man yet, and if I tried then...I might have cheapened his..."

Alistair could feel her shoulders square against him, her chin lift. He could almost hear her thinking that it was a word of meaning to the Wardens and she would learn to speak it without flinching. She would learn to speak it with pride.

"Sacrifice."

It hadn't escaped Alistair that she hadn't actually answered his question. She'd explained why Gilmore hadn't joined the Wardens, not why she had.

"And he wasn't the only one..." she added before he could pursue the point. "My mother and I fought our way to the servants' entrance in the kitchen. I got this from one of Howe's knights who thought to stop us," she added, raising her sleeve to show him the thin diagonal line that ran from just below her wrist to just below where her gauntlet would begin.

"Wynne was the one who treated it, but she doesn't know where I got it. My father was waiting for us...but...he...was so badly wounded he said it was too late for him to flee, even if we aided him. Mother and I were arguing with him about that when Duncan came in...he'd been fighting through the Castle...looking for us, I think. He offered to take mother and me to safety...but mother refused to leave. She knew, I think, and so did Duncan, what I didn't realize until we were running...my mother was a great warrior, but her skills were not mine...and—as it was—we might all have been lost. Instead she stayed behind..." Elan turned into Alistair's embrace like a frightened child, burying her face in his chest.

Alistair reached an awkard hand up to stroke her rough-cut hair.

"I would have stayed with them...I would have fought to the end, but...they didn't want me," she wailed. "They told me to go. They told me to live."

They awoke sometime later to a rather put-out-looking Morrigan standing over them. "Still alive, I see? So are the rest of us, though we are tired and out of sorts, having had to rearrange the watch...and having had no idea what had happened to the only Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden."

Alistair's face felt as hot with embarrassment as Elan's looked. Elan started to mumble something, but Morrigan cut her off. "Breakfast is ready, and I doubt either of you want to miss that."

Breakfast was an awkward affair...not that things seemed much better when they'd set out on the road.


End file.
